


Spellbound

by colorsofmyseason



Series: a thousand senses [8]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, FC Bayern München, German National Team, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25242136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorsofmyseason/pseuds/colorsofmyseason
Summary: The moment I held out my hand firstIt feels like luck came to meA percentage of one out of a hundred thousandThis really might be magicOr, Thomas is a vampire. Manuel is a wizard. Somehow, throughout all the frenzy that are football, transfers, blood and magic spells, they fall in love with each other.
Relationships: Thomas Müller/Manuel Neuer
Series: a thousand senses [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718806
Comments: 12
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meggiewrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/gifts).



> Basically, I have wanted to elaborate more about Neuller in my AU, and lovely Meggie whose stories are my primary source of enjoyment nowadays just gave me a chance to do so and inspired me to write this ^^ thank you, bb!
> 
> Title's taken from TVXQ's [Spellbound](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2rU_RZy2XhI).
> 
> Featuring: vampire!Thomas, wizard!Manuel, and various players from German NT/Bayern München with their respective quirks and powers.
> 
> Warning: English is not my mother language so forgive me for any mistakes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter follows Manuel and Thomas' meeting on the national team until Manu's transfer to Bayern.

The first time Thomas asks Manuel to fetch his water bottle for him, the goalkeeper simply does that without thinking.

He only realizes what he’s just done when the summoning spell has already fully formed on the tip of his tongue, and before he can cancel it, the bottle has zoomed away from its place on the center table and into the grip of Thomas’ thin fingers.

To be fair, barely anyone in the dressing room bats an eyelash to it. Being one of the most supernaturally-induced team in the whole world, Manuel supposes that it’s a normal sight for them. Miroslav does give him a look, though (which makes Manuel avoid looking at the striker in the eyes for the rest of the break) and Philipp’s impressive eyebrows are lifted by half an inch, but no one says anything.

Manuel looks down, murmurs a barely audible “you’re welcome” to Thomas’ cheery gratitude and resolves not to do that so readily next time.

-

The resolve turns out to be an uneasy one, as Manuel figures out during the 2010 World Cup. They have just won their first game of the group stage, a convincing 4-0 victory against Australia, so the air around them is understandably filled with elation. Still, Manuel’s startled when all of a sudden a skinny arm is thrown around his shoulder in a friendly way, though he doesn’t need rocket science to know who it is.

“Manu,” Thomas chirps and squeezes Manuel’s shoulder gently, and the keeper gets a sudden dread that Thomas is going to make him use his magic again, and he’s not sure if he should follow through with the lanky forward’s wishes. “Can you help me, please??”

“With what??” Manuel asks, rather warily.

“I left my wallet in the dressing room,” Thomas replies casually, confirming Manuel’s hunch. “Can you summon it for me, please?”

Manuel sighs and runs his hand through his hair, all the way trying to formulate a response that won’t hurt Thomas, yet will provide him with the means to avoid using magic at the same time. “The dressing room isn’t that far. Can’t you get it yourself?”

Thomas pats on his own knobby yet deceptively strong knees. “I’m tired. I just ran around on the pitch for more than 90 minutes, you know.”

“You’re a _vampire_ , Thomas.”

“So what? Vampires can’t get tired too? Especially under this sun?”

Manuel rolls his eyes, yet he can’t help the corners of his mouth twitching in amusement.

“Please, Manu,” Thomas practically _whines_ now, and Manuel curses himself as he feels his defense starting to falter. “Just a small help for me? I promise you I won’t ask you to do something like this anymore,” and Manuel, again, rolls his eyes, “alright, alright, not that often at least! Besides, I scored a goal today, so you can consider that as a gift for me or something! And Miro’s already on the bus, he won’t see a thing.”

Part of Manuel wants to say that Miroslav – who, aside from being Germany’s star striker, also happens to be his very own mentor – doesn’t really need to be there beside them to know about Manuel’s doing, and the keeper understands how strict the much older man is regarding the usage of magic for daily lives, and would probably scold Manuel about this by the time they return to the hotel. But something in Thomas’ eyes squelch him, so with a deep breath, he snaps his finger and the aforementioned wallet appears inside Thomas’ pocket out of nowhere.

“Thanks, Manu,” Thomas says happily. “I owe you. Now let’s see whether I can smuggle those Nutella cupcakes that you love, those that tastes _exactly_ like heaven…”

“No, no, you don’t need to,” Manuel quickly interjects, though he can feel his mouth water only from the mention of Nutella. “We still have one more game, and if Jogi knows about it I’ll be dead…”

Thomas waves his hand airily as if it’s not a big deal. “Ah, don’t worry about him! A bit of sweet treats once in a while won’t hurt. And besides, even if you gain weight, you can just magic it away, right??”

“……Magic doesn’t work like that, and I’m not allowed to do so anyway…”

Thomas laughs, loud and rather obnoxious as he always does, which Manuel knows some people find annoying but not him. “I was just kidding, Manu,” the forward says, the remaining of his laugh still curls at the corners of his mouth. “But my point still stands. I’ll get those cupcakes for you and I’ll be shoving it down your throat before the end of this day, just you wait and see.”

And before Manuel can say anything, Thomas has already skipped away to join his Bayern teammates on the bus.

-

It doesn’t stop.

Thomas keeps asking for small feats from Manuel all the time during that World Cup, from asking for a spell to tie his boots perfectly to begging Manuel to help him with his latest prank to turn Holger’s hair blue. Manuel regrets the last one, though, since Holger’s sonic scream upon seeing his new hair color nearly bursts the goalkeeper’s eardrum off (and destroys all the walls in his vicinity). Jogi punishes them with thirty extra laps afterwards, and when he scolds Thomas and says he’s never aiding the forward’s shenanigans anymore, Thomas only grins unrepentantly.

To Thomas’ credit, he indeed doesn’t enlist Manuel’s assistance in his pranks anymore, but the requests for small favors don’t stop. Manuel has tried to explain that he’s not supposed to do so, that he can’t waste his magic for such mundane stuffs, but more often than not, Thomas would either pout or exaggerate his inability to perform whatever he asks Manuel to do until the keeper finally gives in and helps him.

“What do you use your magic for, then?” Thomas asks one day after Manuel has (rather exasperatedly) told him that he can’t fix Thomas’ cracked phone screen. “Aside from whatever you wizards do on the pitch, I mean.”

Manuel flounders for an answer, but he honestly doesn’t know what to say. Indeed, during games, he alongside the other wizards in the team will combine their forces to make sure the magic on the pitch works for their favor and protect their teammates from jinxes, but on his daily life? No, he doesn’t exactly use his magic for anything. He only knows that Miroslav has stressed to him, again and again, about the importance of never letting his magic taking control of his life, and he always tries to heed that advice.

His hesitation must’ve been clear on his face because Thomas stares at him and he can see how the younger’s expression softens a bit. “Sorry, I don’t mean to make you confused,” he says, voice gentle. “And well, probably you _do_ have a point there, you can’t waste your powers for things like this. But let me ask you this, is someone’s life going to end only because you’re doing this for me?”

Staring at the lanky forward as if he’s just grown extra arms, Manuel can only shake his head dumbly.

“Exactly,” Thomas grins, his usual lopsided smirk that Manuel secretly finds adorable. “And these things I ask you to do…aren’t they just simple, easy and fun?”

“…But……”

“I’m not saying that you should misuse your power, really I’m not,” Thomas quickly adds. “I know you’re not allowed to directly influence the result of a match or hex your opponent so that he won’t be able to score goals against you. But even if there’s no rule against that, I’m never going to ask you to do so either. We are _footballers_ , Manu. We play football for a living and all the hardships that we face on the pitch on daily basis are part and parcel of our life as much as goals and victories. Trust me that I’m the last person who would want you to use your magic to cheat while we’re playing. Of course as a player I always want to win, but the point is to win _fairly_. But aside of that, life will be a bit bland if we can’t use our powers for fun once in a while, no?? Just for little things that won’t make much difference whether you use magic or not. As long as you don’t overdo it, of course.”

Manuel’s still at a complete loss of words, but he quietly reaches out and swipes a thumb over Thomas’ phone screen, making it good as new, and Thomas’ grin grows wider. “Think about it, okay??” he advises, patting the keeper on the shoulder. “I know Miro, and I know he can be a bit strict when it comes to using magic, but trust me, there’s no harm in letting go a bit.”

“I guess,” Manuel murmurs, looking downside. “I’ll… I’ll think about that, that’s for sure.”

Thomas nods jubilantly and springs back to his feet. “And anyway, thanks for fixing my phone,” he says with a wink before giving Manuel a small peck on the cheek and flies out of the keeper’s room.

Again, Manuel can only sit there, rooted, not knowing what to say or do, though now he’s acutely aware of the blush spreading from the spot where Thomas has kissed him to all his face by now.

_It’s nothing_ , he tries to say to himself. _It’s just a peck on the cheek. Nothing more than that. He probably only means it as an expression of gratitude, anyway_.

Yet he can’t deny that the kiss, as innocent as it might be in nature, is enough to send his heart soaring high to the sky.

Sure, Manuel has always been aware that he likes guys, and considering how practically 90% of the national team is gay, he’s not going to deny it either. However he’s always been slightly afraid about the possibility of falling in love with his own teammate, and how it may impact his career and his future if it leaks out, and though his other teammates and coaches may be fine with it, the public is a whole another story.

Manuel closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before resolutely turns off his lights to sleep. It’s okay. He will be okay. He will _not_ be falling for anyone in his team, not even Thomas Müller. He needs to stop thinking about this stupid feeling and just focus on the World Cup. Besides, in the future, he’ll only meet that guy during international breaks anyway, which aren’t that often, and he won’t have to deal with Thomas on daily basis until the next Euro at the very least…

-

The plan goes out of the window only in one year.

By the time he puts his signature on the paper bearing his new contract at Bayern, Manuel knows that he eventually will have to face what he’s been dreading most.

Alright, he’s aware that there are lots of things he has to do at the club. Firstly he needs to gain support from the fans, which, considering their current animosity towards him, won’t be an easy task in any way. Secondly, he’ll be replacing Miroslav, the Grand Sorcerer himself, as the club wizard, and if it isn’t a gigantic boot to fill then Manuel doesn’t know what it is. And lastly, the keeper knows that Bayern is currently down in the dumps – by their own standard at the very least – after failing to achieve good results in both the DFB-Pokal and the Champions League, and only finishing third in the league. It would surely be an insurmountable task to lift them up and bring them back to where they belong.

Yet, for Manuel, all of them seem paler in comparison to the prospect of meeting Thomas Müller, and interacting with him on daily basis.

He himself doesn’t understand why he feels like this. Heck, he doesn’t even know Thomas that well at first place. They have only just been international teammates so far, nothing more, nothing less. Also, as far as Manuel can remember, his interactions with the younger man are mostly limited to those moments when Thomas would ask for his magical expertise. But every time he remembers the forward, with his crooked smile and gangly limbs and mismatched eyes and mousy brown curls and cheerfulness and laughs, which can’t be much more different than Manuel himself, the keeper always feels this flip in his stomach, which is unexplainable but not entirely unpleasant.

Manuel sighs and buries his face in his palms. _This is not the time to think about it, Manuel_ , he firmly tells himself. _You’re here to play, to hopefully help them regaining their titles, not to dabble in romance. You’re not a teenager anymore, for goodness’ sake_.

When Manuel finally manages to tear his hand away from his face, the pitch has transformed before his eyes. It’s still the same training ground, with freshly cut grass and a few training equipments here and there, but now there are glowing lines of spells and charms layering it, some thick and some thin, some straight and some crooked, not as crowded as they usually are, especially for big clubs, but more colorful than anything Manuel has ever encountered.

Sure, he’s been at Säbener Straße before for training with the national team, and has gotten himself pretty acquainted with the magic there, but now that he’s signed for Bayern, they feel different. He can hear them _humming_ at him, _inviting_ him, reacting to his own magic in a good way, just like how it used to be at Geschäftsstelle and Veltins Arena back then. He shakes his head at the memory of his old club. Schalke has been his home for years, and he will always treasure all the moments he’s spent there, but he knows it’s time for him to move on. And embrace his new role at Bayern.

He lifts a hand and recites a charm in a low voice – just a standard anti-slipping charm – and releases it to the field. A tiny smile slips onto his face as he feels the familiar thrum at the back of his head, then a tickle on his fingertips as the magic is released out of him, in the form of a blue bubble – and Manuel again feels guilt twisting inside his stomach at the sight – before it flies towards the field and links itself with the others, forming a wholly new line of magic there.

“What are you doing here, Manu??”

Manuel almost jumps out of his skin. Beside him, out of nowhere, stands one Thomas Müller, dressed in his Bayern training kit, his trademark lopsided smirk in place. Manuel certainly didn’t see him coming, and he briefly wonders whether he’s starting to lose his ability to focus before he remembers that, of course, Thomas is a vampire.

“Goodness, Thomas, do you want to give me heart attack or something??” Manuel snaps, and immediately winces at how harsh it sounds.

Thankfully, Thomas doesn’t seem to be offended, as he only laughs good-naturedly and pats Manuel in the back. “Sorry about that,” he says cheerfully. “It’s just that you’re staring at the pitch as if you’re about to burn it off or something.”

A faint pink color makes it way to Manuel’s cheeks. “Sorry,” he murmurs sheepishly, scratching his head. “It’s just…I’m taking over from Miro, you see, therefore I need to understand the magic here and…”

Thomas quirks an eyebrow at Manuel’s words but soon his forehead clears and he gives a small nod of understanding. “Ah yeah, that thing you club wizards always do, isn’t it,” he says, and the ever-present smile tugs again at the corner of his mouth. “So, how do you find it?? Are the magic strong enough? Do they, well, _resonate_ with you or something??”

Manuel blinks and stares at Thomas, certainly not expecting the forward to have such an understanding towards magic, and Thomas laughs at his confused face. “That’s just how Miro always talks about magic,” he explains, looking at the pitch as well. “I won’t pretend I understand what you guys do during games, but…Miro once confessed that he never vibes that well with the magic here.” He shrugs. “Maybe that contributes to our decline last season, I don’t know. But I’m glad you’re here, Manu. I think you’ll be able to bring some fresh air here and contribute a lot for the team.”

Those words are spoken with blunt nonchalance, no flowery tone nor exaggerated praise, but somehow Manuel’s blush intensifies upon hearing them. Ducking his head, he whispers, so low that he’s not sure Thomas can hear it, “Thank you. I will…I will try my best, that’s for sure.”

Thomas laughs again and pats his back. “And oh, probably it’s a bit too late to say this, but welcome to Bayern,” he quips. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the other guys, yeah??”

Manuel smiles and nods before following Thomas inside.

“And oh, Manu?”

The smile on Manuel’s face falters a bit as he has a feeling he knows what Thomas is going to ask him next. “Yes, Thomas?”

“Can you please levitate my bag to the dressing room?”

Manuel sighs and shakes his head, but he lifts his hand again anyway and causes Thomas’ bag to hover one meter off the ground, following them to the dressing room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few background information:
> 
>   * Thomas and Manuel first met on the national team during [a friendly against Argentina](https://www.kicker.de/521561/artikel) sometime before 2010 World Cup (I think).
>   * Manuel transferred to Bayern during [summer 2011](https://www.reuters.com/article/idINIndia-57579320110608).
>   * [Holger's power](https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Sonic_Scream#:~:text=The%20power%20to%20emit%20highly,Variation%20of%20Sound%20Wave%20Generation.).
>   * Club wizards usually have their magical aura in similar color as their club's primary color. Manu's magic at first is still blue because back then he's Schalke's club wizard, but it will change into red eventually.
>   * Miro is the most powerful wizard in Germany and Manu's mentor, as stated [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23852428/chapters/58035940#workskin). I always picture him as someone who's rather strict upon the usage of magic in daily life. Haha.
> 

> 
> Hope you like this chapter.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part follows the beginning of Manu's life at Bayern.

Thomas Müller, Manuel decides, is a bit of an enigma.

He doesn’t come off as one at first glance, that’s for sure. He’s just as loud and obnoxious and a total joker as he is in the national team, if not more. He would play around in the training ground a lot, imitating Cristiano Ronaldo’s dribbling style or making bets with Holger about how many times he’d be able to nutmeg Philipp during passing drills (which, of course, never ends well for either of them). He would talk everyone’s ears off even during training until either Philipp’s patented captain glare (which, Manuel quickly learns, isn’t something you wish to be on the receiving end of) or Jupp threatening him with extra laps finally squelches him.

But then the season starts and Manuel feels like a fish blown out of water.

Sure, he’s played with Thomas for the national team before. But now they play together on regular basis, and it enables Manuel to see Thomas in more clarity. Thomas, running all over the pitch, seemingly placing himself in the most random spots available but then turning them into _his_ space, where he can work magic with his feet. Thomas, whose dribbling ability isn’t the best in the world (as the forward has admitted himself) but passes and scores like his life depends on it. Thomas, who’s always _there_ , leaving his marks on every football pitch he’s ever played on.

And Manuel has to admit that his fascination towards the young forward just grows bigger and bigger each time.

They lose their first game of the season, 0-1 against Borussia Mönchengladbach at their own home, but then they win their next few games and things start to look up for them. A narrow 1-0 win over Wolfsburg, a good 5-0 against Hamburg, a comfortable 3-0 win against Kaiserslautern and a 7-0 battering of Freiburg. They also fare quite well in the DFB-Pokal, winning 3-0 against Eintracht Braunschweig, and also beating Zürich with 3-0 aggregate to ensure their place in the Champions League.

Then they go north to Gelsenkirchen to meet Schalke.

Manuel still feels a bit guilty as he lines up inside the tunnel of Veltins Arena with his new teammates. He’s well-aware that the eyes of his former fans – and Benni’s disappointed stare – are all over him as he steps onto the pitch with different crest on his left chest, and despite of him trying to mute them out, their jeers and mockeries still ring all too loudly in his ears. Not to mention that the magic on the pitch itself, which once would practically welcome him with open arms, now has shut themselves from him like a locked deposit box. But Manuel still knows all of them in good depth, and he’s sure he can still work them for Bayern’s favor. Don’t get him wrong, he still loves Schalke and doesn’t want to hurt them, but this is a football match, and Manuel is every bit a professional as you could expect.

He’s about to walk towards the goal when a bony hand is clamped on his shoulder and he looks around to see Thomas.

“Are you okay, Manu?” Thomas asks.

Thomas’ voice is unusually soft, with a tinge of anxiety inside it, but somehow it makes Manuel smile as he knows that the younger man is genuinely worried about him. Nodding and squeezing Thomas’ hand that is still on his shoulder, he says, “I’m fine. I’ve pretty much expected this anyway. The fans aren’t happy to see me signing for Bayern and that’s understandable.”

“Yeah, but they’re still not supposed to do that to you,” Thomas argues. “While I understand that they may be angry, to call you snake and all is still too much…”

Manuel chuckles softly. “You’re a one-club man, Thomas, and you’re lucky to play for Bayern from the start,” he says, giving Thomas’ mousy-brown curls a slight ruffle. “Things aren’t that easy for me, or as a matter of fact, all players who transfer here from other Bundesliga teams. And considering what I’ve just done, they have all the right to be mad at me. But don’t worry. This too would pass sometime later, I’m certain.”

Thomas still doesn’t look entirely convinced but there’s nothing he can do except nod. “Well, at least after this match, let me accompany you to the bus, and I’ll stay with you until we arrive at the hotel later,” he states after a few seconds of silence. “Just in case those so-called fans plan to do something nasty to you.”

Manuel has to bite his lower lip to keep himself from laughing. Thomas, despite of his hidden vampire strength, certainly doesn’t have the built of a bodyguard, and it’s so funny to imagine him standing around to protect taller, more muscular Manuel. Also, the keeper’s sure he can pretty much defend himself in situations like that. But nevertheless, Thomas’ insistence still touches him somewhat.

“Thank you, Thomas,” Manuel says heartily. “I really appreciate it. And yes, let’s walk together to the bus later.”

Thomas grins back at him, and Manuel gives him a little wave before making his way to the goal.

Bayern wins 2-0, and Thomas scores his first Bundesliga goal of the season.

-

In his later life, Manuel would swear that this particular event is an accident, and everyone who knows him believes him when he says so. But Thomas – albeit jokingly – would insist that Manuel purposefully stalks him to figure out what he’s up to. One thing they both agree, though – that this might be the _real_ start of everything.

The goalkeeper is by nature a punctual person, and always likes to come early to training. And Thomas doesn’t strike him as an early bird, that’s why he’s always pleasantly surprised whenever he sees the younger’s car already parked there when he arrives at Säbener Straße – not every day, though Manuel later admits that he should’ve noticed that there’s regular pattern to it. But Thomas never appears in the cafeteria nor the dressing room until the training is about to start.

Manuel knows that he can actually use his magic to find Thomas’ whereabouts, but he also understands that it’s not right, and he’s not a particularly nosy person anyway. He thinks that if Thomas has some personal problems to attend every morning before training starts, then he’s free to do so, besides, if the problem turns out to be something that would affect the team, Manuel believes that Thomas would inform them all immediately.

But one day Manuel gets a small strain during training, and while it doesn’t hurt that much and Manuel himself believes he’d still be able to train the next day and later play, the physios still instruct him to come to them to be checked the next day before training. Cue the goalkeeper dutifully walking to the medical room this morning to get his leg checked.

The physios and training staffs always arrive earlier than the players, so Manuel isn’t surprised to find the lights inside the room already turned on and the voices of the physios floating out of the door. But as he’s about to come in, a familiar voice, perhaps softer than usual but with a distinct Bavarian accent halts Manuel in his track.

He doesn’t mean to peek, but in his defense, the door’s ajar anyway and he can see almost everything that’s happening inside. And he arrives there just in time to see one of the physios, Florian Brandner, giving a pale, slightly sickly-looking Thomas a blood bag and the forward simply breaking the plastic with his fangs to drink the blood.

Now, it has to be said that Manuel Neuer is by no means a prejudiced person. He actually highly doubts that you can be one while playing for the (arguably) most diversely superpowered national team _and_ league in the whole world. And there have been vampires too at Schalke back then, he knows what they need to do to fulfill their “dietary requirement” and he’s perfectly fine with it. Also, he has heard that Thomas feeds directly from his teammates sometimes. So Manuel really doesn’t understand why the younger’s face goes even whiter than a chalk when they make eye contact, and Thomas nearly drops his half-empty blood bag too if not for his own vampire reflex kicking in.

And Manuel learns that Thomas’ voice would go a few octaves higher when he’s extremely surprised or panicked, as proved by him squeaking, “Manu??” afterwards.

“I…I’m sorry,” Manuel stammers a bit. He certainly doesn’t feel like he’s just done something wrong, especially to Thomas, but seeing the horror in Thomas’ face he thinks that it’s the right thing to do. “I’m just here to see the physios and…”

Florian quickly nods in affirmation to Manuel’s words. “Yes, I’ve told him to see me yesterday because of a little strain,” he explains. “Come here, Manuel, I’ll see your leg.”

Thomas wordlessly steps aside and disappears behind one of the curtains there. Manuel climbs on the bed Florian has pointed to him, but he barely pays any attention as the physio pokes and moves his leg around before pronouncing him fit for the training. Manuel gets down the bed afterwards and thanks Florian and waves the older man goodbye, but something tells him not to leave right away. Instead he waits outside, leaning his back to the wall.

Indeed, a few minutes later, Thomas walks out of the physio room. He looks much better and healthier than before, Manuel notes, with colors already returning to his skin, but there’s also a splotch of faint redness dusting his cheeks that Manuel’s sure isn’t caused by the blood he just drank. Their eyes meet again, and this time Thomas doesn’t panic nor walk away.

“Manu.” Thomas’ voice is again uncharacteristically quiet, and his tone doesn’t sound like a greeting, but Manuel recognizes it as an effort to reach to him nevertheless.

“Hi, Thomas,” Manuel replies easily. “Do you want to get to the cafeteria together?”

Thomas nods slowly. “Yes, come on.”

They walk together in silence for a few seconds, which is so unlike Thomas that Manuel considers to speak out first, but as he tries to figure out what to say, Thomas eventually breaks the ice himself. “Are you disgusted?”

Manuel blinks at the question. “Huh?” he asks confusedly. “What do you mean??”

Thomas inhales. “I mean, are you disgusted to see me earlier? To witness me sucking the content of a blood bag like a juice box?”

“……No?? Why would I be disgusted? I already know you’re a vampire, and I know about your dietary requirement, so…”

“Many people know about me, and they’d say so whenever I tell them about me,” Thomas murmurs, voice still as quiet as before. “Not everyone actually _wants_ to see me drinking blood.”

Manuel stares at Thomas for awhile. Thomas’ face doesn’t show any particular expression whatsoever, but for some reasons, Manuel feels like he’s currently seeing the _real_ Thomas Müller. Not that Manuel’s saying that the younger’s happy-go-lucky persona is fake, oh no, he believes that Thomas is a genuinely cheerful person by nature. But this is the first time Manuel uncovers another side of him, the darker side with tons of buried secrets and insecurities.

“Are you…” Manuel swallows, trying to formulate what to say without accidentally hurting Thomas, “are you actually _ashamed_ of the fact that you’re a vampire??”

He knows things like that aren’t uncommon among supers and supernatural creatures. Lukas Podolski, for example, is afraid of his disintegrating ability and, despite of all the spells and precaution measures placed upon him, still has to consciously keep himself in check all the time to prevent his power from destroying everything in its wake. Then there’s also Mario Gómez whose shadow-manipulating power is so rarely in use because of its dark nature, though not as destructive as Lukas’. It certainly never occurs to Manuel that Thomas may be having the same problem as well.

Thankfully, Thomas responds to Manuel’s question with a shake of his head. “I’m not. I’ve been living as a vampire all my life, and honestly I’ve never known another way of life. Drinking blood to me is as easy and normal as breathing. However, as I’ve told you, though people are fine about me being a vampire, seeing me doing…vampire things…can still be a bit too much.”

“So you just decide to…hide it altogether??”

“Yeah. I usually need to feed once a week, maybe more if our schedules are particularly gruelling, and I’ve arranged it with the staffs to provide me with blood whenever I need it. But I don’t – and won’t – drink in front of you guys. Never.”

“…But you sometimes feed directly from someone as well, no?? What about it??”

“Not unless I’m really, really in a desperate need for it, and even it’s only from those whom I know have accepted me fully. Mostly it’s only Holger, though.”

Manuel knows that Holger has been Thomas’ childhood friend since forever, and probably has known all his shenanigans, but Manuel still flinches a bit when Thomas mentions the defender’s name. He himself can’t explain why. But the image of Thomas, sinking his fangs inside Holger to drink from him, while not disgusts Manuel in any way, certainly makes something twist in his stomach.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asks, a hint of worry in his voice as he certainly misreads Manuel’s silence. “I know this may be a bit hard to accept, and I can shut up if you want…”

“No, no, you don’t need to,” Manuel quickly denies, “because firstly, I’m totally fine with it, with you being a vampire and doing your ‘vampire things’, I mean. Heck, you didn’t even strike me as someone who actually finds problem with it, really. And secondly, I highly doubt you can even manage to shut up for more than five seconds.”

He doesn’t mean the second part, really, he doesn’t. Those words just burst out of his mouth without thinking, and he’s immediately struck with horror as he realizes what he’s just said. He has wanted to console Thomas, to convince the forward that Manuel really doesn’t mind what creature he is, but of course his stupid mouth has to ruin everything. He briefly considers whether he should try the time-reversing spell Miroslav has told him to learn a week ago to prevent himself from saying so at first place, but he has yet to apply that spell in real life, and he doesn’t want to risk destroying the training ground, or worse, messing up the time itself.

A loud snort suddenly snaps Manuel from his reverie and he raises his head in surprise to find Thomas with tears running down his face. He panics at first as he never sees Thomas crying before – has he hurt the younger that bad?? But then he realizes it isn’t sad tears – it’s _hysterical_ tears.

“Oh, Manu,” Thomas gasps, wiping the tears off his eyes, “you…you’re just _precious_ , you know?? You just _need_ to add the second part, and you’re right there, you’re totally right about me…”

“But I didn’t say that on purpose,” Manuel murmurs, cheeks now flaming red. “It…it just came out of my mouth out of nowhere, and I’m so sorry, Thomas, I…”

“I know, I know,” the forward laughs again. “But it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s the truth, and I can’t really shut up for more than five seconds.” His lips curl into his usual crooked smile. “And I assure you that it’s better than any other attempts you can possibly try on me.”

A faint, hesitant smile tugs at the corner of Manuel’s mouth. “Really??”

Thomas nods, a big, hearty nod. “And oh, thank you,” he says, giving Manuel’s shoulder a little playful shove. “For accepting everything so easily.”

“Yeah, well, I was Schalke’s captain back then, you know,” Manuel explains, scratching his head. “We have had vampires there as well, and I used to help them coordinating their diet with the nutritionists, things like that. So I really don’t mind. Even if you later need me to feed you or something, feel free to drink from me, anytime.”

He can tell that Thomas doesn’t expect the last sentence, as a surprised look flashes across the forward’s face, followed by a twist of his eyebrows. After all, being okay with having a vampire as a teammate is real different than actually offering yourself as their feeder. But then a slow smile starts to spread across Thomas’ face, not his trademark lopsided smirk, but gentler, sweeter, yet more genuine somehow.

“Thank you, Manu,” that’s all he says, short and simple, yet Manuel understands perfectly the deeper meaning behind those three words.

The keeper grins back at him. “Last one to reach the cafeteria has to do one-handed push-ups??”

Manuel knows his attempts to cheer Thomas up has truly succeeded this time as the forward’s whole face lights up, and then he shouts, “You’re on!” before dashing towards the cafeteria like a skinny, long-legged deer.

Manuel only chuckles before making a run there as well. He knows that Thomas can totally outpace him, and he can never win this marathon even if Thomas doesn’t make an earlier start, but he thinks that doing one-handed push-ups is totally worth it, as long as he’s able to keep the smile on Thomas’ face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that concludes the second chapter.
> 
> I tried my best to follow Bayern's real-life games during 2011/12 season closely in this story, which you can read [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2011%E2%80%9312_FC_Bayern_Munich_season).
> 
> Hope you like this chapter.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Check my [tumblr](https://colorsofmyseason.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfiction) for more fic dumps/entries about my supernatural AU!


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